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POLICE IN DOWN are investigating a number of recent attacks on sheep as well as some so-called ‘big cat’ sightings in the county.
Over recent weeks, a number of farmers in the Hill Road, Ballynahinch Road and Mullaghdrin Road areas are understood to have found sheep killed in what appeared to be violent attacks.
Some other landowners reported sheep missing and others bloodied and injured.
Local residents have claimed to have spotted a ‘big cat’ in the same general area and the PSNI said today that local officers are making enquiries.
“While we would stress that there has been no confirmation of the presence of any ‘big cat’ in the area, we would ask that anyone who has lost sheep or other livestock in similar fashion recently, or anyone who sees an animal which they believe to be dangerous to contact police,” they said.
However they warned that under no circumstances should any wild or undomesticated animal be approached.
Local police can be contacted on 0845 600 8000.
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They say it’s as big as four cats and it’s got a retractable leg so’s it can leap up at you better.
The real villain in this piece has yet to be revealed.
FARGO BOYLE !!
Fukkin hell
@ John Kinsella – comment of the year!
The beast … I hear it is a fierce creature… With a strange fear of stamps… And three arses !!!!!
Definitely a case for Ted & Dougal.
If I was a sheep. I’d be watching my back right now.
Why? Do you live in wales?
What’s Wales got to do with anything.
To the people of Down. Y’all know me. Know how I earn a livin’. I’ll catch this cat for you, but it ain’t gonna be easy. Bad cat. Not like going down the pond chasin’ bluegills and tommycods. This cat, swallow you whole. Little shakin’, little tenderizin’, an’ down you go. And we gotta do it quick, that’ll bring back your tourists, put all your businesses on a payin’ basis. But it’s not gonna be pleasant. I value my neck a lot more than three thousand bucks, chief. I’ll find him for three, but I’ll catch him, and kill him, for ten. But you’ve gotta make up your minds. If you want to stay alive, then ante up. If you want to play it cheap, be on welfare the whole winter. I don’t want no volunteers, I don’t want no mates, there’s just too many captains on this island. 10,000 for me by myself. For that you get the head, the tail, the whole damn thing.
We’re gonna need a bigger boat. Show me the way to go home I’m tired and I wanna go to bed
You’ve too much time on yer hands! Love it. :)
I had a little drink about an hour ago…
Apparently it’s got magnets on its tail and he lights up at night and has 4 ears , I think the sheep need some sheep tea mrs Doyle
It’s either Mary Harney or the Healy-rae’s!
It has claws as big as cups.
It’s not a cat. It’s a spider baby
El Chupracabra!
When I was little, we found a sheep. It looked like – like, butchered. The old woman in the village crossed themselves… and whispered crazy things, strange things. “El Diablo cazador de ovejas.” Only in the hottest years this happens. And this year, it grows hot. We begin finding our sheep. We found them sometimes without their skins… and sometimes much, much worse. “El cazador trofeo de los ovejas” means the demon who makes trophies of sheep.
Tis the Celtic tiger fallen on hard times like the rest if us.
Its the missing quinn
The comments were brilliant until that one…
Salvatore “Big Pussy” Bonpensiero, not to be confused with “Little Pussy” Malanga.
Kills men by the hundreds, and if he were here he’d consume the English with fireballs from his eyes and bolts of lightning from his ass.
Wait I’ve got my movie plots confused
Tiger country.
Maybe not a tiger . . . . but I know of a woman here who had a leopard and it was stolen a couple of years ago ? !
Oooooh I wouldn’t want to be a sheep out on them moors tonight…
Sheep Shaggers gone savage
Generic Father Ted reference
Tis only a small white rabbit, what’s fighting about that….
One holy handgrenade coming right up. Nih!
It’s our very own Chupababra
Hooper: You were in Co Down??
Brody: What happened?
Quint: NAMA lawyers slammed two repossession orders into our side, Chief. We was comin’ back from the island of Tinian to Leyte… just delivered the Cows. . Eleven hundred sheepwent into the field. The tractor got stuck in 12 minutes. Didn’t see the first Big cat or about a half an hour. Tiger. 13-footer. You know how you know that when you’re in the bog, Chief? You tell by looking from the front paws to the tail. What we didn’t know, was our bomb mission had been so secret, no distress signal had been sent. They didn’t even list us overdue for a week. Very first light, Chief, cats come cruisin’, so we formed ourselves into tight groups. You know, it was kinda like old squares in the battle like you see in the calendar named “The Battle of Waterloo” and the idea was: Big cat comes to the nearest man, that man he starts poundin’ and hollerin’ and screamin’ and sometimes the cat will go away… but sometimes he wouldn’t go away. Sometimes that cat he looks right into ya. Right into your eyes. And, you know, the thing about a cat… he’s got lifeless eyes. Black eyes. Like a doll’s eyes. When he comes at ya, doesn’t seem to be living… until he bites ya, and those black eyes roll over white and then… ah then you hear that terrible high-pitched screamin’. The bog turns red, and despite all the poundin’ and the hollerin’, they all come in and they… rip you to pieces. You know by the end of that first dawn, lost a hundred d sheep. I don’t know how many Cats, maybe a thousand. I know how many men, they averaged six an hour. On Thursday morning, Chief, I bumped into a friend of mine, Herbie Robinson from Cullyhanna. GAA player. Cheif mucker outer I thought he was asleep. I reached over to wake him up. He bobbed up, down in the bog water just like a kinda top. Upended. Well, he’d been bitten in half below the waist. Noon, the fifth day, Mr. Hooper, a John Deere saw us. He swung in low and he saw us… he was a young fella, a lot younger than Mr. Hooper. Anyway, he saw us and he come in low and three hours later a big fat Massycomes down and starts to pull us out. You know that was the time I was most frightened… waitin’ for my turn. I’ll never put on a pair of wellies again. So, eleven hundred sheep went in the field; 316 sheep come out and the cats took the rest, June the 29th, 2013. Anyway, we delivered the cattle.
The bog turns red! I’m still laughing…
Baaaad Doggies
Yup, pretty sure it’s a sabre toothed tiger. They are often seen in County Down. They can be quite vicious.
Bit late for silly season media stories now.
These very common “big cat” stories are always nonsense. What is it with journalists? They don’t seem to have a skeptical bone in their bodies.
Purrfect
Fargo Boyle! …….F*#king Hell.
Simon Jester, Seamus Heaney would be proud of you.
probily a werewolf lots full moons out lately or fenton that dog that never came back
I thought I saw Putty Cat a creepin up on sheep …….,,
‘were been’?
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